


A Picture’s Worth a Thousand Words  (But a Thousand Words Are Also Worth a Thousand Words)

by pro_fangirl



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: ALSO PRECIOUS, Angst, Angst with Hurt/Comfort, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Bucky just wants to take care of his goats, Clint saves Quicksilver, Drinking, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, Gamora is mentioned, Gen, Give her a break, He just wants his brother back, Hurt No Comfort, I love Morgan Stark, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Nebula (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Pepper’s awesome, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Endgame, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rocket and Natasha friendship, She just wants her sister back, Steve has a terrible fashion sense, Tea-drinking, Thanos is also a jerk, Thanos is also mentioned, Thor Needs a Hug, Thor’s angry, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Undiagnosed PTSD, Wanda & Clint friendship, Wow, a lot of hurt in general, and Peter, and Tony notices, and death, and depressed, and pregnant, because that’s what SHOULD HAVE HAPPENED, bunch of mini ficlets, cuteness, hide n seek, hint to nightmares, i love them, i tweak a few things, it’s so precious, lots of death, mostly - Freeform, ok i’m going to stop tagging now, someone give my baby a hug, these are a lot of tags, they’re both precious little babies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-11-28 17:57:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20970683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pro_fangirl/pseuds/pro_fangirl
Summary: A bunch of mini ficlets (or not so mini in some cases) based on one-word prompts, and set post-Endgame.





	A Picture’s Worth a Thousand Words  (But a Thousand Words Are Also Worth a Thousand Words)

**Author's Note:**

> I meant to only write 1,000 words (hence the title) but I got a little carried away. So now it’s like 2,000 words. 
> 
> Most of these are set Post: Endgame but a couple are set during the actual events of Endgame. It’s pretty much Endgame compliant except for one small one which I won’t spoil for you. 
> 
> But for the most of it, all the people who are dead stay dead. Steve goes back to be with Peggy (I do not agree with this personally, but for the sake of continuity, it stays), and Sam’s the new Captain America. 
> 
> Possible trigger warnings: death (nothing graphic or anything, but there’s death), and a small comment about alcoholism
> 
> Enjoy :)

**Scald:**

Clint’s not surprised that when he makes his way downstairs, Wanda’s already there. They don’t say anything, they just look knowingly at each other. Neither of them know the specifics, but they know the basic reasons for eluding sleep. 

After all, one does not fight in multiple battles and come out unscarred. 

Neither of them know how to make it disappear though, so they don’t try to reassure the other. Wanda just points to the pot of tea that is releasing steam into the air. 

Clint accepts the cup. The hot liquid burns against his tongue, but it makes the night seem a little less dark.

**Perpetual: **

After two weeks have gone by since the final fight against Thanos, and Gamora still hasn’t reappeared, Nebula begins to worry. 

She knows her sister can handle herself; Nebula’s body is a testament to that. But that doesn’t stop her from worrying. 

They had just begun to get close when Gamora had died, killed by the man Nebula is ashamed she once called Father. Her heart had done a small flip-flop inside her chest when she’d seen her sister. A little younger and a little crueler, but so blessedly, blessedly alive. 

And then she’d left. She’d been there throughout the battle, but when Nebula had sought her afterwards, she’d been gone.

That night, as the sun sank below the horizon, Nebula had drawn one small little line on a piece of paper. A single tally mark.

She unfolds the paper now as she sits on the porch of the Lake House and watches another sunset. 

Fourteen small tally marks are written on the paper. Straight and orderly, but completely random. If someone else had seen the paper it very well could have been thought one was counting people or how many marshmallows the young spider could fit in his mouth (which was quite a lot as it turned out).

No one else but Nebula knows the meaning of the tally marks. And no one else but Nebula worries that the tally marks will keep coming. That she will continue writing them until they take over that paper, then another, and another, and another. That they will never, ever end. That on the day Nebula takes her last breath, one more tally will find its way into paper. That on the day the very universe withers away, one more small, straight line will be written.

She hopes there will be an end. And maybe one day there will be. Maybe one day a hand will extend in Nebula’s direction, and she will take it, and one more part of her life will slot into place. 

Maybe Gamora just needs a little time.

That’s fine. Nebula will wait forever if forever is what her sister needs.

Night falls, and before Nebula goes inside, she adds one more tally to the piece of paper.

**Save:**

The look on Tony’s face is priceless, and Clint finds himself laughing for the first time in five years.

“You brought him back?” Bruce asks, looking every bit as shocked as Tony.

Clint shares a smile with the “him” in question before putting on his best Russian accent (which he will later be told by multiple people is really, really bad). 

“Come on. You didn’t see that coming?”

**Report:**

Rocket sends the email without thinking. 

He’s done it so many times that it’s become routine. Her email’s the first one that pops up, and he clicks it without realizing what he’s doing.

It’s only five hours later when she still hasn’t replied, that he rememberers.

Her profile picture smiles up at him. A rare picture of her smiling. A real smile, too. All bright and happy- an emotion he knows she didn’t feel often.

All he can think of is that she’d be happy now. But she isn’t here. She’s in a place you don’t return from.

So it’s with tears burning at the edges of his eyes that Rocket resends the mission report.

**Temper:**

A red sun rises the morning after the second defeat of Thanos. Almost glowing under its harsh light, a figure rages.

Out of Thor’s mouth comes a strangled battle cry that sounds more like a choked sob than anything else. In his heart anguish and anger battle for precedence. It’s a battle that’s been waged inside of him for five years. Usually anguish is the champion.

But this morning anger wins.

His heart is heavy, but his arm is not, and he swings Stormbreaker around like it weighs nothing. He doesn’t aim at anything, he just lets the axe eat up the scenery around him. Blind rage fills him from his head down to his toes. 

They had beaten Thanos yesterday, but his brother and so many other Asgardians are beyond saving. 

He has enough sense left to stop when the tree he’d been attacking falls. His strikes become more careful, directed only at the fallen giant. 

The anger flows out of him as pieces of wood splinter off the tree. Unfortunately, the pain he had successfully battled off earlier comes in to take its place.

It won’t go away, and it hurts, and Thor wants a drink.

He gathers up some of the wood in his arms, and returns to the Lake House.

Pepper looks at him questioningly from the porch, but Thor just drops the wood in a pile by the door.

“Firewood,” he says, and goes inside to look for a beer like the one he saw Rhodey drinking yesterday.

**Whispering: **

“Ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred!”

Peter opens his eyes and removes the noise canceling headphones he’s forced to wear because of his advanced hearing.

“Ready or not, here I come!” And with that, Peter sets out on his fifteenth round of hide-and-seek that day.

Unlike with most kids, he actually has to try to find Morgan. She’s smarter than most people and therefore finds better places to hide than, say, under the table.

But she’s still only five and it only takes Peter a minute before he spots her.

It’s quite clever actually. She’s taken advantage of her size and the blue Elsa t-shirt she’s wearing to blend in among the pile of pillows on her parents’ bed. She’s holding impressively still for a five year old, and it actually takes a moment before Peter sees her.

Then, just like he’s done every time, he begins to speak very loudly about his complete inability to find the youngest Stark.

“I just don’t know where she could be,” he says with an exaggerated sigh and a huge shrug. 

A small giggle comes from the pillows. Then, like clockwork, Peter hears a small whisper. 

“Peter. Peeeeter.”

Said boy shakes his head in disbelief. No matter how much Morgan begs to be the one that hides, she always seems eager to be found. He supposes it’s a kid thing. May had said he had done the very same thing when he had been younger.

Another whisper comes from the pillows, slightly louder this time.

“Peter!”

“Hmmm,” Peter hums, “I think I heard something.”

Giggling.

“Do you know what that something sounds like?”

More giggling.

“It sounds like a certain Morguna the Brave.” Peter whirls around, arms stretching out to grab the little girl. Morgan shrieks with delight as Peter throws her up and across to the end of the bed where she lands with an excited laugh. 

Right before Peter begins to tickle her, he leans down to whisper in her ear, “found you.”

**Boot:**

“Nope. Turn around Captain.”

Steve pauses next to Tony. “Huh?”

“Those shoes,” Tony waggles his fingers down in the direction of Steve’s feet, “not going to work.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh come on, Cap. Did you really think those shoes went with that shirt? Or those pants for that matter.”

Steve just sighs. “We’re trying to go back in time and save the world, Tony, not make a fashion statement.”

“Umm, no. My game, my rules, Cap. And seeing as I’m the one who made it possible to send you back in time, I think I have the right to do this in style. So I say the shoes change.”

“What’s the matter here, boys?” Red hair bleeding into white enters Steve’s peripheral vision. 

“See,” Tony points down at Natasha’s feet, “she’s got the right idea.”

“The right idea of what?”

“Tony wants me to change my shoes.”

Natasha almost looks offended. “Well did you really think they went with that shirt?”

**Shock:**

“I was gone for how long?”

“Five years, Buck. Five years.” 

The ex-Russian assassin rubs a hand over his face. “It was just a second for me. Five years, that’s, wow, that’s weird.”

Steve remains silent while he watches the surprise flicker over Bucky’s face.

“Steve?”

“Yeah, Buck?”

“What happened to my goats?”

**Bewildered: **

“He picked a good person, you know.”

Bucky’s words, spoken softly but with meaning, have Sam looking up from the red, white, and blue lying on his bed to where Bucky stands in the doorway.

“Should have been you.”

It’s true. Bucky’s known Steve longer than Sam has, and anyone can tell that Bucky and Steve have something different than most friendships. Something more special, more… intimate. 

Not to mention Sam feels totally unqualified. Being Falcon’s one thing, but Captain America? That’s a lot to handle. 

“No.” Bucky’s left arm twitches. “Steve made a good choice.”

Sam looks back down at the shield. In its polished surface he sees his face. It’s the face of a man who has been dead for five years, not the face of Captain America. 

“I’ve been thinking about it, and why on earth did he pick me?” 

It’s a question that’s been bouncing around in his head a lot the past few days- ever since he’d slipped the shield onto his arm. 

“Because you have a good heart, Sam. You’re a good person in general. Steve trusts you. You’ll do good.”

Sam nods, rubbing his hand over the shield. He’d tried throwing it the past few days, but he’d only succeeded in knocking things over. He’d have to get some pointers from Steve. If Steve could even still throw. 

“Besides, even if you mess it up somehow, you’ve got a pretty good sidekick.”

“Correction, pretty annoying sidekick.”

Bucky’s retort comes quickly. “See, you’ve got the sarcasm down already.”

Sam just smiles. 

**Approval:**

“I’m thinking of giving the shield to Sam.”

It takes Bucky a minute to process this information. His brain’s already overwhelmed with the news Steve has just dropped on him. Going back, time travel, Peggy. It’s all too much.

But once his brain catches up, he nods. 

“Good choice.”

**Birth: **

When Tony wakes up, Pepper is holding his hand. 

“Hey,” she whispers. Her voice is gentle, and there’s a tenderness that’s not usually there. 

Tony looks around and a thousand things fly through his head in a millisecond. Steve. Anger. Pain. Passing out. Medbay. Thanos. Dust. 

Peter.

The realization comes no easier this time around. Peter, the boy who he’d come to love as his son, clinging to him. Begging for Tony to protect him, save him, rescue him. 

_Let go, Pete, I’m going to catch you. _

He’d caught him. But it hadn’t been enough. 

The next thing Tony’s aware of is a hand on his back. An IV lays beside him, and his hand hurts. Pepper’s there, talking to him in soft tones, telling him to breathe. 

He does, albeit shakily. 

When Tony has recovered enough to form a sentence he asks, hoping against hope, “Peter?”

The fading smile on Pepper’s face is answer enough. 

Tony slumps down, and it’s all he can do not to cry. 

“You okay, Tony?”

It’s a ridiculous question. Why on earth would he be okay? He doesn’t even bother with an answer. 

“Anything hurt?”

Tony looks at Pepper with mournful eyes. 

“I- you, you can’t keep doing this, Tony.”

Immediately Tony knows something’s not right. Pepper never stumbles over her words like that. But of course half the world never dissolved into dust, and that just happened, so anything’s possible.

“I mean it, Tony. I need you to promise me no more risks. No more surprises. Just shirts in the closet. Please.”

How long had it been since they’d had that conversation? How long since he’d promised no surprises? 

“I can’t. Thanos.”

That’s all Tony can think of. He needs to kill Thanos. Needs to watch him, feel him take his last breath. Needs to rescue Peter.

“Thanos is dead.”

Pepper’s words take him by surprise.

“What? How?”

Pepper shifts in her seat, stares at her hands. “Rhodey and the others. Including Carol. They killed him.”

For a minute Tony is almost elated despite the fact that he wasn't there to witness it. Wasn’t there to do it. But then he wonders, if they killed him, why does Pepper look so downcast?

“Peter. And the others Thanos wiped out?” he asks, even though he knows what the answer will be.

“I’m sorry, Tony. The stones- they were gone. Thanos destroyed them.”

Tears burn in the back of Tony’s head. 

Pepper sniffs, and Tony is instantly aware again of the fact that there’s something off about his fiancée. Pepper doesn’t sniff.

“Pep?”

“Tony, now's not the time-”

“Pepper, what’s going on?”

“Tony, I really don’t think-”

“Please.”

His words have the desired effect. Tony Stark doesn’t say please often. 

Pepper sighs, and when she looks him in the eye, Tony sees the redness around them. 

“I’m pregnant.”

***

Eight and a half months later, Tony watches with a mixture of horror and wonderment as Pepper pushes an eight pound baby out of her body. 

It’s ridiculously gross and amazingly beautiful at the same time. 

Later that night, as Pepper rests, Tony Stark holds his daughter, tears running unashamedly down his face. 

**Absorb: **

Peter spends hours each day outside just laying in the grass around the Lake House. 

He doesn’t close his eyes. Too many bad memories come back if he does.

He just lays there, letting the sun’s rays shine down on his body, gratefully absorbing their heat. 

For a while, Peter simple finds joy in being alive. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This started out simply because class was boring and I wanted to write something. So I’m sorry if it’s not the best quality. 
> 
> I might continue this which is why I labeled it as having multiple chapter, but it won’t be something that comes out on a continual basis. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed. Have a great day, and God bless!


End file.
